After: A Fable Love Story
by swaggedoutkidd
Summary: Lucien Fairfax has been defeated, and Albion is safe from his tyranny. Hannah's greatest desire is to hone her skills as a warrior with the Warrior Monks of the Northern Lands. But she cannot leave her best friend, Sparrow, behind. Feelings begin to stir in Hannah during their years of training. Will Sparrow reciprocate? (Part 1 of Bringers of the Light series).
1. Chapter 1: Immediately After

**Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters or anything else original to the storyline or software of Fable II. The entire Fable franchise belongs to Lionhead Studios and Peter Molyneaux. **

**Author's Note: I deleted the previous story to start afresh. Hopefully, people will still like this story.**

* * *

**Chapter 1: Immediately After**

"I wish to bring back to life all those who died in rebuilding the Tattered Spire."

Hannah could not believe what she had heard. Yet there was no doubting the Hero of Bowerstone's words. Sparrow's tall, muscular frame was ramrod straight, his gaze upon the blind Seer was unyielding, and his voice was filled with conviction. If Hannah had heard Theresa's options correctly (and she had), the Hero of Bowerstone desired the good of money above his own selfish gain, which had been offered in the form of money and in the resurrection of his beloved family.

"You understand then, that the resurrection of those who worked upon the Spire will void all other options?" Theresa asked, her voice an ethereal echo of Hannah's thoughts. "If this wish is fulfilled, there will be no second chance, no future opportunity, and no unexpected boon. Your sister Rose, your faithful dog, and your wife and children will not be returned to you."

Hannah remembered the one time she had visited Sparrow's home in Brightwood, shortly after the Hero of Bowerstone had escaped his long confinement in the Spire. The Hero's wife, Charlotte, was a graceful, willowy brunette woman who greeted Hannah at the door like a greatly missed relative, and his two sons, Joseph and William, were rambunctious children, eager to hear about Hannah's adventures with their father.

_'"With little ones like that around,' she had said to the proud parents as the children scampered in the yard, "it makes me long to be a parent as well."_

_'"It's a taxing job, but you'll be glad to do it," Charlotte had responded from the sink. She dutifully had gathered and washed the dishes from their lunch together._

_'"Yes, especially if you passionately desire a family," Sparrow had added, still seated across the table from Hannah. His gaze had turned wistful. "After Rose was killed…even before then, really…I wanted a family. Avo blessed us to have these two beautiful ones."_

_'Charlotte had stopped her scrubbing to gently hug her husband around his powerful neck. "And when Lucien's tyranny is defeated, we'll have even more."'_

"I understand," Sparrow responded.

"Nor will you become a wealthy man. The few properties you own are still yours, but you will not have the sort of largesse you once desired to have."

Hannah studied Sparrow's face for any sign of weakness in his resolve. _'Even if Sparrow never placed much value in gold, I know I'd want the Abbot back if I had my will. Sparrow already refused to resurrect his family but the hearts of men are easily bent by the weight of gold. "More wealth than you could possibly imagine," Theresa had promised. He's too corrupt to not take it. Hero or not.'_

"Take the wealth, you fool," Reaver urged. Hannah glared disdainfully past the blind Seer at the slender pirate-turned-Hero. "Who cares for a lost family or a dead dog? Buy a new one with your unimaginable wealth! Live the life of luxury you deserve to live. You're a Hero after all. Treat yourself lavishly!"

"The deviant is right," Garth growled from behind Theresa.

"Deviant?" Reaver gasped and clasped a hand to his chest as though wounded. "All because I enjoy dalliances with whomever…"

"You already gave up your loved ones," Garth continued, unfazed by Reaver's objection, "but think of what you could do with insurmountable wealth! You could singlehandedly catapult Albion into an advanced age of industry, technology, and science! The people of Albion would benefit tremendously!"

Hannah kept quiet.

"I've already made my decision." Sparrow set his gray eyes on Theresa's blind milk-white ones. "If I wished for the company of my loved ones, then the people of Albion certainly miss theirs. I will not deprive anyone else of that love because I placed my wants first. As I've spent most of my life working, it will be no challenge to continue to earn my gold the fair and just way. Let the people of Albion have their loved ones returned to them."

A soft hum built within the black walls around the four Heroes and the blind Seer. The central chamber began to glow a deeper blue as the vibration built into a rhythmic pulse. With a sudden flash of light, the blue glow in the chamber vanished through the walls. "Your wish has been granted, Hero of Bowerstone. The rest of you may make one wish as well," Theresa announced solemnly.

"What could a man so fortunate as I want?" Reaver mused arrogantly. _'Reaver's duplicitous, deceitful, and dastardly. Knowing his predilections, he'll probably wish to enslave all of Albion. Avo help us if he does,'_ Hannah thought. "I'm already blessed with overwhelming good looks, a perfect youthful body, wealth beyond my ability to count, lascivious adoring fans…."

"How about you wish to hold your tongue before I burn it off, eh?" Garth threatened. Theresa turned to the Will Master, while Reaver gaped in surprise and offense. "I wish to return to my people in Samarkand and train our mages to become the finest Will warriors."

"Very well, your wish has been granted." The same electric blue light that had followed Sparrow's wish accompanied Theresa's words, but this time, the glowing luminescence surrounded Garth before vanishing through the walls.

"Samarkand, hmm," Reaver mused. The blind Seer turned to him. "All those exotic, uninhibited people of both sexes, so lusty and exotic under the influence of a blazing sun and their fine local commodities? Yes, that is where I shall go! I wish to travel to Samarkand and accompany Garth!"

"Your wish has been granted." As with Garth, Reaver departed in a flash of blue light. Then Theresa turned to Hannah.

Hannah glanced at Sparrow. Moments ago, the Hero of Bowerstone had been self-assured and confident in the magnanimity of his wish. He had stood proudly for the people of Albion and sacrificed his good for theirs. Now Reaver and Garth had departed for a foreign land together. Hannah had expressed more than once her yearning to join the highly skilled Warrior Monks of the Northern Lands, if only to return to the monastic lifestyle she had known before Lucien Fairfax's brutality had ended the life of the only father she had known.

_'Each of us has someone to go to, except Sparrow. He'll be alone, wandering destitute because he gave up everything a man could want for the people of the land.'_

"I won't leave anything behind, except the best friend I've ever had," Hannah said, beaming at Sparrow. "I wish to study, alongside Sparrow, under the Warrior Monks of the Northern Lands."

Theresa nodded. "Very well. Your wish has been granted." As the blue light engulfed the Heroes in a warm, tingling sensation, the blind Seer added, "Do not attempt to return here again, Heroes. The world of Albion and all its neighbors is yours to explore. But the Spire is mine alone."

* * *

When the light and its warmth vanished, Hannah gazed upon a world of pure, staggering whiteness. _'Have I gone blind? Is that a consequence of the Spire's traveling method, to go blind?'_ "SPARROW!" she bellowed in panic.

Then she felt the icy wind biting at her skin. Hannah shivered, even though her considerable bulk protected her from the worst of the wind. _'Wait, I'm in the Northern Lands. This whiteness, it must be….What did the Abbot call it?'_

"SNOW!" Sparrow yelped. Hannah spotted the Hero of Bowerstone's long black hair bobbing in a deep drift. At first, she suspected he had gained telepathy as one of his Will abilities, but Sparrow was merely laughing enthusiastically, frolicking in the pure white powder. He threw a handful of the stuff over his head and tried unsuccessfully to catch it on his tongue. "It's snow, Hannah! Snow!"

The Hero of Strength giggled at Sparrow's sudden happiness. "You look like a little boy playing out here like that!"

Sparrow whooped and hopped toward her through the drifts. Hannah couldn't understand how he had gotten yards and yards ahead of her in only a few seconds of contemplation. "I haven't played in a snowdrift since I was little, when Rose and I still lived in Bowerstone. I'm sure Hunter would love it out here! Not to mention Joseph and William!"

Hannah's face fell at his words. "Sparrow…."

"Those boys," Sparrow laughed recklessly, "never run out of energy! Just the other day, Charlotte was telling me how they ran right over the hedges chasing a ball, and…." The Hero of Bowerstone doubled over with laughter.

"Sparrow…"

"I doubt I could ever give them any sweets." He shook his head. "What is it, Hannah?"

The Hero of Strength searched for the right words. _'I hope that Spire travel spell didn't addle his brain somehow.'_ "Sparrow, your children are dead. So is your wife, and your dog. Remember?" The Hero of Bowerstone's joyous expression died. "Lucien attacked us atop Hero's Hill and told us how he'd killed your family before he tried to kill you. Hunter saved your life by sacrificing his. And then…"

"And then I got my revenge in the Spire." Sparrow's ruddy face was streaked pale with tears. "I remember. That's why I'm here."

Hannah moved toward him, but Sparrow sniffled and the fat tears stopped rolling from his eyes. "Sorry. Sometimes it's still hard to think about them. Or think about them." Sparrow rose to his feet and jerked his head across the plain. "Is that the monastery in the mountains?"

"I can't really tell, Sparrow." As the Hero of Strength, Hammer lacked the enhanced vision possessed by Reaver, the Hero of Skill, or Sparrow. Garth even had better vision because of his monocle. To Hannah, the distant mountains only seemed to be a rise of whiteness emerging from the plain.

"It must be. Theresa wouldn't have placed us too far from the monastery. Come on, I'm getting cold." He started to trek across the valley toward the mountains, and Hannah followed.

Although she was grateful that the mountains were a short hike from them, Hannah also became thankful for her enhanced muscle mass. As the Hero of Strength, Hannah packed more muscle mass than anyone, including Sparrow, could hope to ever achieve. She was so powerful that one blow from her favorite hammer could kill a full-grown man. This bulk protected her to a degree from the biting winds of the Northern Plains, but a thick layer of furs would have helped her even more.

Sparrow, on the other hand, was all lean muscle. His elegant but flimsy Explorer outfit did not protect his body from the biting winds and the bone-stiffening cold. The Hero of Bowerstone hiked far ahead of her, even when the winds began to howl at sunset. _'I wish I could protect him, but he's so far ahead of me. I just wish I were stronger and faster. I supposed Theresa deposited us this far from the monastery to test our mettle in some way. Never can trust those Will-flingers, except for Sparrow. He's the bravest, most selfless man I know.'_

"Come on, Hannah! Not far now!" he encouraged her as he began the dangerous ascent to the mountainside monastery. The mountain that had seemed easy to climb now towered over their heads, an obstacle to be dominated. More than once, Hannah's foot or hand slipped and she found herself gazing down the steep mountainside at the jagged rocks that could lead to her death or disability.

Each time she slipped, Sparrow was there with his hand extended and a warm, reassuring smile on his face. "Come on, Hannah. Don't give up now," he said each time.

_'I made a wise choice when I wished for his company on this expedition,' _the Hero of Strength thought as they crested over one last granite boulder to gaze upon the ascetic home of the renowned Warrior Monks.

As they approached the monastery, it's looming double wooden doors studded with brass handles opened for them without knocking, and revealed a long dark hallway with an eerie coolness to its granite walls. The two Heroes entered and spotted a row of shrouded monks on either side of the hallway, their gender distinguished only by the shapelessness of their cassocks.

"Hello?" Hannah said meekly. "We're seeking the Warrior Monks. Would that be you lot?"

"Yes," came a reply from one of the monks.

"Well then," Hannah forced herself to say cheerfully, "we've come looking to join and fight alongside you."

"Membership is not given, it is earned," intoned another monk in a voice that reverberated on the stone walls like a gong.

"If you wish to join us, you must pass the test," added the thin, reedy voice of an old man.

"What kind of test?" Sparrow asked.

"Follow me." One of the monks broke rank and started down the cool granite hallway. The other monks followed him in four columns. Hannah glanced at Sparrow, questioning her wish to train with the legendary Warrior Monks. The Hero of Bowerstone shrugged his shoulders. _'I hope I haven't made a mistake in coming here,'_ she sighed and started down the hallway as well.

The motley party emerged into a vaulted central chamber. The magnificent roof was supported by columns thrice as wide around as Hannah and which seemed to be carved of one piece of granite along with the roof. Torches in groups of four on every column suffused the room with warmth and a personable glow, but the racks that lined the walls destroyed any image of welcoming. Axes, swords, clubs, hammers, and maces all hung from the racks. Hannah quickly surveyed the room while Sparrow studied cautiously. "What is our test?" Hannah asked innocently.

"You will fight. Or you will die."

Before Hannah could register the words and think _'What in Avo's name is going on? They want us to fight?'_ the warriors pulled out a variety of weapons and launched themselves at Hannah and Sparrow. Hannah dodged to her left and Sparrow somersaulted to his right as a particularly tall monk swung a heavy broadsword at their heads. The sword ate into a pillar behind Hannah's back. She kicked out her right leg, caught the warrior's right knee in a bone-cracking crunch, and rose to her feet, pulling out her hammer while the monk clutched his knee in pain. _'Guess it's a good thing we didn't bring furs. They'd be more hassle now than we needed.'_

Hannah swung the shoulder over her head, ready to crush the monk's skull. "Don't kill him!" Sparrow yelled. She shot him a quizzical look as he thrust the pommel of his sword into another warrior's stomach. "Don't kill any of them! They aren't the enemy."

_'Sparrow might be right. This doesn't seem insidious.'_ The thought of mercy departed almost immediately, as a man's meaty fist clocked her on the jaw and caused her to stumble backwards. The broadsword-wielding monk was now joined by a monk whipping a heavy iron chain over his head and a shorter, mace-bearing monk. Hannah balanced herself and held up her hammer defensively. _'Alright, so I can't kill you. I wouldn't want to anyway, as you haven't done anything to justify the shedding of your blood. But I will maim you to the best of my ability.'_

The warriors' patience extinguished before Hannah's did, and they lunged at her as a unit. She blocked their high attacks with the handle of her hammer, deflected their low jabs with the handle, and redirected their midrange blows with a turn of the hammer. When the chain bearer whipped his iron at her in an effort to strangle Hannah, she caught the chain on the handle of the hammer, yanked it from his hand, and whipped the double weapon in a wide circle before her. All three warriors stepped back, which gave Hannah the opening to knock out their legs from under them.

Another fighter launched himself at Hannah's head with an ax raised over his shoulder. She had to restrain her strength when she whipped the hammer around and caught the warrior in his small chest. She twirled it over her left shoulder and blasted another warrior in his kneecap with a jab of the handle of the hammer.

Three more warriors converged upon Hannah. She improvised a roar and slammed the head of the hammer into one's stomach, while the other two collapsed after Hannah butted them in the heads with the hammer.

More combatants flew at them, and it became harder for Hannah to use non-lethal force against them. She found herself surrounded by a small force of warriors ready to annihilate her. Thinking quickly, Hannah slammed her hammer on the ground. The impact radiated throughout the stone floor, creating a pattern of cracks as it rippled beneath the fighters' feet and toppling them like a pattern of dominoes.

"Stop!"

Hannah paused with her hammer over her shoulder. Sparrow crouched and aimed his sword like a skewer over his shoulder. Another monk clothed in a brown cassock stepped forward and removed his shroud. He was a tall, burly man with skin darker than Hannah had seen on anyone before. Swirls of fine blue tattoos danced across his alluring face, gleaming bald head, and tree trunk-like neck and disappeared into his robes.

"You have passed our test. Welcome to our ranks."


	2. Chapter 2: The Years After

**Chapter 2: The Years After**

The next three months were filled with training. As the Warrior Monks were far removed from the nearest outpost of civilization, they had to perform dozens of chores daily. The deceptively cloistered monastery was well stocked with horses, cattle, sheep, pigs, and fowl. With three stories and over one hundred rooms, there was always some room in need of sweeping, a corridor that needed mopping, or some window that needed dusting.

Hannah's strength was suited to the arduous tasks of carrying water buckets, bulls, and even the occasional slab of masonry. She lacked the stamina to exert for long periods of time. The cows were not always compliant to be milked, sometimes the chickens refused to lay eggs in the morning, and Hannah often lapsed into a distracted daze while she was mopping.

Sparrow was always there to help. When the cows would not produce milk for Hannah, he sang a melodious song to them. When Hannah came for eggs in the morning and the chickens had not laid, Sparrow somehow knew a chicken dance that would cause them to lay. If he found Hannah gazing out the window with her eyes glazed over, Sparrow took the mop and finished the entire corridor for her.

_'He's like my second shadow, we're so close,' _Hannah found herself thinking increasingly as the days dragged on. Winter deepened outside the walls of the monastery to the point that no one was allowed into the valley any longer. Hannah ate beside Sparrow in the mess hall. In the mornings, she either awoke outside his cell or he slept outside hers. They exchanged jokes over meals, even if he had heard all of hers, and he wouldn't share the dirty jokes he knew.

Around midwinter, Hannah awoke to someone pounding heavily on the door. She rose groggily from her bed. "What do you want?" she croaked gruffly.

"Well, aren't you just a ray of sunshine?" Sparrow quipped on the other side of the door.

Hannah yelped and hastily covered her modestly clad husky frame with a bedsheet. "Sparrow! Give me a moment!" She started to search for her clothes but elected instead to open the door. "Good morning, Sparrow, forgive my earlier rudeness."

Sparrow gaped at Hannah's body. Even with the sheet over her nightgown, her voluptuous frame was still noticeable to his eyes. _'Oh no, look what I've done by greeting him like this. I'm surrounded by men, and I dare to dress like this.'_ "My apologies, Hannah, I-I-I thought…"

"You thought what? That living around all these men desensitized me to the obvious differences in our anatomy?" she spat, suddenly sensitive. _'No one else here spends any time at all around me. My cell is the only one on this entire hallway. And all the men treat me differently, just because I'm female. They even talk to me differently.'_

"No," Sparrow said with confident certainty. "I thought you were more comfortable with me than with anyone else." He turned his tall, lean frame on the heels of his wool-lined boots. All Hannah saw of him was his long, dark locks tumbling down his back. "We'll talk later then."

Hannah grabbed his shoulder before he could march down the hall. "I didn't mean to push you away, Sparrow, but I will not apologize for my modesty. You should respect that."

The Hero of Bowerstone folded his arms over his chest. "Of course, I do, Hannah. But why would you be so cruel to me?" He turned and took her burly hands in his own. "I respect you as much I as I respected my wife, my sister, and my mother when they were alive."

_'No one has ever cared about me so much, not since the Abbot treated me as his daughter.' _"I'm sorry for overreacting, Sparrow."

He shrugged his shoulders. "What's a little spat between friends?" He kindly slugged her shoulder. "Anyway, I came to tell you that Talos seems to think you're not becoming a well-rounded warrior. So he appointed me to be your training partner. I guess we'll spend even more time together, huh?"

"You care deeply for Sparrow, don't you?" Talos inquired. His eyebrow was raised quizzically.

Talos sat in his office with Hannah almost eight months after he had assigned Sparrow as her training partner. In her time there at the monastery, they had only grown closer together. _'Even if we do get into a pileup or if he cracks my jaw when we train, he's still my best friend. Sometimes he's such a gentleman that he lets me beat him when we spar. But I always know when he's giving it his all because he grits his teeth and doesn't smile or anything.' _

"Yes, I care deeply for Sparrow. He's my best friend."

Talos stood up and folded his beefy arms behind his back. He began to pace behind the wooden desk that was so evocative of his own personality: sturdy, scientific, and organized. Talos wore a cream-colored cassock that allowed his rich, chocolate skin to stand out against the drab decoration of the office. Hannah still wore a warrior's breastplate and leg armor over her training garb. "That is not what I meant, Sister Hannah."

His tone of voice always implied that Talos refused to be toyed with. The stony expression on his face confirmed that this was no exception. "What did you mean then, Brother Talos?"

"Do not play coy with me, Sister Hannah," Talos said when he stopped pacing. "Throughout the centuries of the Warrior Monks' existence, we have never permitted relationships between warriors. Not only is it morally reprehensible that two men should desire each other in the way that they desire a woman…"

"It isn't in Albion," Hannah muttered.

"…it endangers other warriors in a fight. Imagine being in the heat of battle, and your lover is pitted against an enemy beyond their skill on one side, while your friend is pitted against another enemy on the other side. Who would you choose to aid, Sister Hannah?"

"Whoever's loyalty I knew best, that would be the one I chose to save."

Talos nodded at Hannah's wisdom. He turned around so that the sunlit window filled the space behind him. "To profess romantic love for another warrior is to earn expulsion. If any warrior attempted to force another into sexual relations, his hands would be severed. If a warrior forced another into sexual relations, he is to earn the Long March of Exile. And a Flaming Death is reserved for any warriors who have sexual relations with each other.""I'm sorry, but those sound like unnecessarily complex procedures."

"We live in a land of perpetual ice and snow. If sent on the Long March of Exile, the nearest mallet, the nearest hamlet is three days' ride to the west. Snowspire Village is six days riding further north. A man exiled to the Long March will die of dehydration or exposure."

Hannah grimaced, and Talos grinned in satisfaction. "Sister Hannah, you are an aberration to our culture. You fight with such intensity and skill that you could single-handedly surpass our best warriors."

"Including you?"

The leader of the Warrior Monks ignored her, but Hannah was confident she had irked him. Talos had refused to acknowledge her abilities for seventeen months. "You possess the body of a woman. Ten of our strongest brethren would succumb to expulsion or the Long March of Exile, because of you. I've welcomed you to our ranks only because you are such a skilled warrior.

"But Sparrow is also a talented warrior. I wish to lose as few of our rank as possible, Sister Hannah. So I will ask again: Have you fallen in love with Sparrow?"

"No, Brother Talos, I have not."

"I hope it will remain that way. You are dismissed from my presence, Sister Hannah. Do not put your brothers at risk."

* * *

"Hannah, I have to return to Albion."

The Hero of Strength laughed heartily until she gasped for air. Sparrow had led her into an alcove of the Warriors' Library with the pretense of sharing a meaningful secret with her. Given the rumors circulating about their relationship, Hannah doubted it was wise to sequester in such an illicit way.

While she gasped for air, Hannah noticed the set of Sparrow's square jaw and the absence of his radiant smile. "Why aren't you laughing, Sparrow?"

"Because I'm quite serious, Hannah." He delicately took her hands in his. "Theresa came to me last night. Albion is in great danger."

_'What could she possibly want now? She used the four of us to save Albion, and she kept her precious Spire. What more could the Seer want now?' _"Albion is constantly in danger, Sparrow. Theresa could recruit Reaver or Garth," Hannah said flippantly.

"I don't think you understand, Hannah." The soft moonlight floating through the narrow lacquered glass windows illuminated Sparrow's dark blue eyes. "Lucien Fairfax's brutality kept order in Albion, but his death created a power vacuum. The warlords who bowed to him are now trying to become him. They are pillaging, looting, and terrorizing throughout Albion in an attempt to gain power over the people. Albion needs a Hero."

"And that Hero needs to be you?"

"That Hero could be Heroes." Sparrow smiled hopefully.

"What reason could I possibly have to return?"

"If…everything…goes well…I'll become the King of Albion."

Hannah stared burningly into Sparrow's blue eyes. _'I've never had a friend like Sparrow. He defends me, he supports me, he's been closer than a brother to me. Just as Avo deemed it fitting to give me the one friend I needed so badly, I have to lose him. No, I cannot lose Sparrow.' _She swallowed hard, and before the words were born, Hannah knew exactly how he would respond.

"So…you'll leave for a while…get things in order…and return to the Monastery?"

He smiled consolingly and reached his fingers into Hannah's abundant, curly red hair. Sparrow's sharp blue eyes were overly moist. The Hero of Strength suspected it was something caused by the air because her own eyes were beginning to water. It was obvious what he was going to say.

"No, Hannah, when I leave, I will not return for many years. I may not return at all."

In the two years since they had begun training, Hannah's closest relationship was with him. Fellow warriors had died during their battles against Ice Trolls and Sentinels in the Warrior Monks' effort to minimize their numbers. A handful of others had married and retired from the lifestyle of a celibate warrior. Hannah even received letters from the happy couples and blessed parents. Despite the additional recruits from Snowspire Village, something had changed inside Hannah in the months after her talk with Talos, and it was something she could not articulate.

"You're going to leave me, Sparrow?"

"I have to. Unless…you come…with me…"

"Our duty as Heroes has to end at some point," Hannah complained, "and we have to stop being so completely devoted to being Heroes."

"How can you say that, Hannah? You're one of the most selfless, caring, and honorable people I know."

"I am, but I don't always want to be a Hero! We're already saving people's lives, righting wrongs, and bringing justice to evil-doers. Why do we have to give up more of our lives to the people of Albion?"

"Because they are our people, and we must protect them. It's part of our higher duty as Heroes. How can you be so selfish, Hannah?"

Hannah's mouth gaped open at Sparrow's blatant insult. She stood in indignation, her hands balled into fists at her side. "I hardly think it's selfish to ignore the world that ignored me. We were the saviors of Albion, yet I've heard nary a word of gratitude for our sacrifices. For Avo's sake, Sparrow, you forfeited your family to give the people of Albion their loved ones back! And what have you gotten in return?"

Sparrow stood with her. "You would rather let Albion die than be its savior again?"

"I'd rather be dead than have to save Albion again, Sparrow."

Sparrow waved his hand around the room. "Is this what you want from your life, Hannah?"

"Of course not, I want to fall in love, to be kissed, to be married, and to have children, just like the rest of the women in Albion! But I can't do that because I'm a Hero, and I'm compelled to sacrifice my life for the lives of others. The rest of Albion leaves its legacy in their loved ones when they die. I'm doomed to die alone and miserable, but everyone calls us valiant, selfless, and all the thingswe never were but had to become if we weren't, who would it be?"

A paroxysm of suppressed grief possessed Hannah's body, and she sank to the floor. The Hero of Strength sobbed without restraint. Sparrow knelt in front of her and lifted her agonized face. His vascular arms embraced her with a tenderness better suited to comfort an upset child. "I'm sorry, Hannah. I didn't know, I didn't know."

On an impulse, Hannah leaned forward and brushed his lips across Sparrow's. The Hero of Strength undulated her lips against Sparrow's, seized the collar of his shirt in her powerful grip, and pressed their bodies close together. _'This is more magical than anyone ever told me! Sparrow tastes so good, like the Abbot's cinnamon pumpkin bread and spiced mead. So warm and good, I wish I had known what this was like, or could be like, or I would have tried it a lot sooner.'_

He pushed, gently but firmly, and their lips parted. For a heated moment, they stared at each other. Hannah noticed his eyes were dilated by the intoxication of their mutual lust. "I've never kissed a man before," Hannah admitted nervously.

"If you'll allow me, we can do other things you've never done before." He grinned mischievously before swooping in for another kiss.

Hannah allowed it.

* * *

**Author's Note: The final chapter of After: A Love Story will be posted soon. **

** Will the two Heroes embark on a new journey into an epic relationship? Will Sparrow find he's unable to return Hannah's love? Or will Hannah reject the Hero of Bowerstone's confession? Or...will there be an alternate conclusion? Please review.**


	3. Chapter 3: After Sparrow

**Chapter 3: After Sparrow**

When Hannah awoke the next morning to her desolate, chilly cot underneath the thin slit of a window, she felt the change almost immediately. She just attributed it to the wrong thing.

_'Sparrow and I…Did we…?' _The Hero of Strength glanced at the white cotton sheets still mussed in the outline of Sparrow's muscled form beside her. _'Dear Avo, we did! And it was magnificent!_ She sat upright smiling, seeking his shadow, his scent, some secondary sign of his presence. Hannah's afterglow grin reluctantly faded as she recalled the moments preceding their kiss, their bodies pressed against the wall of the monastery's library, their furtive laughter as they retreated together to the seclusion of her chamber.

_'Father would kill me if he saw me like this!' _Hannah knew ghosts existed abundantly in Albion. The fear that her father's ghost would choose that exact moment to make known his spectral presence prompted the Hero of Strength to draw the sheet close around her nude body. _'I was supposed to have a wedding, a ring, and a promise to be cherished and loved forever before this day came to pass. For a spur of the moment, a lark really, I laid with Sparrow._

_'He really was a terrific kisser though.'_ She sank back on her bed, beaming broadly. Joy instantly replaced shame, as Hannah recalled the events of last night with relish, as though recanting the story to an intimate friend. _'His lips were so soft and luscious, like ripe cherries….No, he wasn't forceful at all, just the opposite: gentle as a lamb really….Yes, his body is GORGEOUS, and he said mine was lovely, I swear on Avo's throne!'_ Hannah felt younger, liberated, and loved.

And it gave her cause for concern.

_'Did he say he loved me?' _she wondered over morning porridge.

"I think he said he loved me, but was I any good?" she asked the cows before milking them.

_'I might have been good,'_ she mused and thrust the blunt end of a staff into a fellow warrior's stomach in sparring, _'but did my body repulse him, or did he really mean those compliments?'_

_'He might have meant what he said about my body. But did he say he loved me?'_ Hannah thought as she slipped into slumber that night.

These thoughts repeated themselves for several days. Since Hannah had no one else with whom to share her thoughts, she eventually began to condemn herself.

_'He thought I was ugly,' _she told herself while dressing.

_'He compared me to his wife the whole night, because she always satisfied him. He even thought about her during our lovemaking,'_ she assured herself while collecting eggs.

_'I flung myself at him like a fat, desperate whore,'_ she thought over dinner's customary leftovers.

Finally, she embraced her anxiety, _'He didn't say he loved me. Sparrow couldn't love a woman as disgusting as I am.'_

Chores became routine. When she milked the cows, Hannah sang the melody Sparrow had sung, and the milk flowed. She waited for the chickens to lay because she had nothing else to distract her. When she mopped, Hannah pushed her arms, back, and hips beyond their limit of endurance, knowing that no one else would replace her if she stopped.

Without Sparrow, Hannah became a new warrior. She was unstoppable, indefatigable, and resilient in sparring bouts. Her skill with other weapons broadened, and her willingness to shed blood amplified. If she wielded a staff, no weapon could break through the vortex she created from the spinning of Hannah's weapon. She slid swords through the armor of the iron Minions on the frozen landscape like a heated knife slipped through butter.

Then Hannah began violently retching.

It followed a breakfast of scrambled eggs and porridge one morning. Hannah surrendered to the convulsions of her stomach in a first-floor bathroom stall, not far from the mess hall. _'Ugh, that was horrible. I don't want to experience that again, must have been those eggs. Well, no more scrambled eggs for me.'_

It seized her body when she fed the horses and cows. One whiff of their musty bodies, and she unloaded whatever she had eaten. Hannah couldn't prevent her heaving and she couldn't neglect the horses, so she kept the nausea as quiet as possible. Whenever she was close to a particularly foul-smelling warrior named Yurk, the same queasiness embraced Hannah's body, and she compelled herself to run from whatever space they shared, even during sparring.

The nausea itself was exhausting, but it took more effort to rise from bed and go about her chores each passing week. Her breasts were increasingly tender. Aches sometimes radiated through her body from her back and sides. Hannah's body was so agonized that she had missed her menstruation for the last sixty days, as marked by the notches she scratched into the granite wall of her chamber where she marked her time in the monastery. On the morning of the sixty-first day of its absence, Hannah carved the notch in the wall and went to sleep, pondering if she ought to tell Talos about her mysterious condition in the morning.

_'Hannah sat on the low stone wall embracing the garden near the Temple of Light. The Golden Oak, a mystical tree whose flourishing growth or wilting death signified the goodness present in Oakfield, shaded her as Hannah carved holes into what she hoped would be a sturdy flute. As protection for the Golden Oak, acolytes dedicated to its well-being had erected the Temple of Light hundreds of years before her birth. Its glowing blue and soft white walls housed a shrine dedicated to the preservation of the Golden Oak and its next generation acorn, and housed also the devotees who lived there in the upper rooms of the temple. Pilgrims flocked to the Temple of Light for blessings, for a cup of sacred, healing water, and always hopeful for an acorn from the current Golden Oak, even though the only one that ever produced the next generation belonged to the acolytes._

_'One such pilgrim walked gracefully from the line of eagerly waiting pilgrims to stand beside Hannah. She was a fair-skinned woman light brown hair cascading to her shoulders, slightly rosy cheeks, pouted lips, and pale grey eyes. Her full, pregnant belly stretched her dark blue dress to full proportions. As she loomed over Hannah, she smiled. "Is this a dream?" Hannah asked cautiously. _

_'"Yes, because you're asleep. And no, because this is a memory you have had, which I have modified." The ethereal voice was startlingly familiar. _

_'"Theresa?"_

_'"Yes, Hannah. I have little time in which to occupy this form, so I will explain quickly. The changes you have been experiencing are a result of your coupling with Sparrow."_

_'"I don't understand, Theresa."_

_'"None do who speak before they listen." Hannah recoiled at the mild rebuke. "You are pregnant with Sparrow's child, a Hero for the next generation. The path for your child will be an arduous one, but you, as its mother, have one highly important task: Shortly after your child is born, you must return to Albion and leave your infant in the care of villagers of Brightwood. I will return when the time is nigh."'_

Hannah awoke in her bed with a startled gasp. _'I'm pregnant with Sparrow's child! And it will be a Hero, no less. What would Father think of me now?'_

She lovingly caressed her plump stomach and spoke to the wondrous life dwelling therein. "I'm not exactly a slender woman. Will I get bigger with you inside me? Will you be a boy or a girl? I hope you're a boy because I know exactly what to name you. Theresa said you'll be a Hero, and if you're as tough as I am, we'll have a marvelous time together. Boys are easier to raise, as I'm already surrounded by men."

She smiled and imagined the life she would provide for her son. "You won't be surprised by your Heroic heritage when it kicks in, no sir! I'll have you equipped with swords and hammers and maces from the time you pop out! Even if you're a girl, no one says you can't be a hearty girl! I'm your mum, for Avo's sake, you've got to be just like me!"

Then her smile faded when she thought of Brightwood. Recalling Brightwood and the Temple of Light reminded Hannah of Theresa's words in her dream. _'"Shortly after your child is born, you must return to Albion and leave your infant in the care of villagers of Rookridge."' _She would not teach her son or daughter to balance a sword, swing a hammer, or heft a club. According to Theresa's gift, Hannah had to give birth to her child and surrender it to the care of total strangers.

Hannah began to cry. It lasted for the better part of that day, and for the first time since she had come to the Warriors' Monastery, she shirked her chores and neglected to spar.

She cried for Sparrow, a devoted family man before Lucien Fairfax had ordered his wife and children killed, and who would never know his new son or daughter.

She wept mournfully for the Abbot, her father, and for her mother, who had died in childbirth with Hannah, because they would never meet their grandchild.

She cried for herself because she was a Hero with no knowledge of how to care for an unborn child, and would never have the chance to raise what possibly would be her only child.

And lastly, Hannah wept for her unborn child, who would be ignorant of its real mother and father while strangers watched it grow.

* * *

After she had cried for most of that first day, Hannah set out to rectify her lack of knowledge about pregnancy. She spent hours after sundown in the monastery's library, the same room in which Hannah had shared her first kiss with Sparrow. The monks had been all-male for generations, so they had no practical use for books on human gestation. She was lucky to find one slender, cobweb-covered book in the hundreds on the library's warped wooden shelves that was devoted to information on a woman's pregnancy, and decided to keep it until she memorized every bit of advice it gave her.

Hannah increased her consumption of food to two plates at every meal, reasoning that she was eating for two. Her fellow warriors were startled by her eating habits, so the Hero of Strength issued a simple challenge: Any monk who defeated her in an arm-wrestling match would receive her second portion. With each defeat, the clamorous objections grew quieter, until none were left.

When the Monks rode across the landscape to defend settlements from attacks by the last of the Old Kingdom Minions or to escort land traders from Hook Coast to Snowspire Village and back, Hannah chose to walk. The book cautioned against horseback riding, which was a meaningful sacrifice for the avid equestrienne. Again, Hannah's fellow warriors expressed concern about her altered behavior, and the red-haired Hero proved her sanity by placing naysayers at the business end of her hammer.

It was her request to wear lighter leather armor that led immediately to a summon from Talos at breakfast one morning in mid-autumn.

Hannah was five months pregnant and glowing radiantly when she sat followed the Monks' chief into his private chamber. "You wanted to speak with me, Brother Talos?"

"Yes, please sit first, Sister Hannah." She complied with his request. "It has been brought to my attention that you have demonstrated some…unusual…behavior of late, Sister Hannah."

"What about it?" Hannah bristled.

"You're eating above the normal portions of food, refusing to ride on horseback, and requesting leather battle armor instead of steel. And don't think I'm unaware you've been regurgitating your meals. What's going on, Hannah?" With one bushy eyebrow raised to the borders of his gleaming bald head, Talos scrutinized the Hero of Strength. "If I didn't know better, I would say you were with child."

The red-head gulped anxiously. "W-well y-yes Brother T-Talos, I a-am pregnant." She attempted and failed to meet his eyes, and lowered her gaze to the stone floor.

"Who is the father? Or do you even know?"

She ground her teeth at the venom in his voice but remained focused on flecks of feldspar in the floor. "Sparrow is the father. He's the only one I've ever…been with."

"He's been gone for some time now. Did he know you were pregnant?"

"No, he doesn't know, and he never will." Hannah burst into tears. "What will I do, Talos? I'm a pregnant, unemployed, single woman with only one moneymaking skill, and that's fighting. But I can't fight anyone while I'm pregnant! What will I do?"

Talos winced at the outburst of emotion and reached across the desk to pat Hannah's hand affectionately. "Erm…there, there now, Sister Hannah, it will be alright. I suppose that, given the exigent circumstances of this case, we as your brethren will permit you to stay." The red-haired mother-to-be lifted her watery eyes with a radiant smile on her face. "However, when this baby is brought into the world, you will be on your own, Sister Hannah."

"Don't I get a second chance? Sparrow and I were very spur of the moment, I wasn't thinking…"

"That's exactly the behavior we cannot permit, Sister Hannah: failure to think. I recall asking some time ago if you had a relationship with Sparrow. You told me you did not." Talos leaned forward. "That was your second chance. Now leave my office."

* * *

It was the first scorching hot day in the Northern lands, when Hannah, Hero of Strength, gave birth in the Warrior Monks' Monastery.

No one alive remembered a hotter day. Melted snow pooled on the permafrost landscape, deep enough in some places to form crystal clear lakes. _'I wish Sparrow could see this. It's so lovely, the way the ground looks without snow.'_ The scenery failed to distract her from the contractions.

"AUGGH!" Hannah bellowed in unrestrained anguish. She griped the wooden rails on the makeshift childbirth bed constructed by Talos and two of the most reticent monks in the brotherhood. It was little more than a stone table angled upward, covered with straw, and bound by thick wooden rails for her to grip during the more agonizing moments of labor. While Hannah labored on the bed and Talos guided her through the delivery, those two monks stood guard at the door to the Monastery's Chapel of Light, in which she was giving birth. "Great merciful Avo, please deliver me from this pain!"

"Hannah, this is a process. It takes longer than it ought when you don't push when you're supposed to!" Talos roared. Sweat ran in broad streams down his bald pate while he knelt between Hannah's gapped knees to catch the emerging baby. Because the Monastery was built into the face of the mountain with narrow windows to maximize its heat, the entire building was swelteringly hot. Many warriors had chosen to ride across the landscape, if only to escape the roasting temperatures within their home. "Now push with all the strength you can muster!"

"Grrragghh!"

"It's crowning, Hannah! Now push!"

Pain coursed through her body like a river of fire. _'I've been feeling these contractions since yesterday, when we were all trapped indoors by the blizzard that rolled through. Why isn't it over yet? Why isn't my baby here yet?' _"I can't, Talos, I'm not strong enough!"

Talos seized Hannah's right ankle and squeezed until the new source of hurt was all she felt. His grip had so much pressure, it seemed as though her ankle would break. "Don't ever say that again in my presence. Sister Hannah. If anyone can deliver this baby, it's you. Now, push."

"No more, please, I can't do it!" Hannah begged.

He released her ankle. "If you don't push, you will kill your baby. Is that what you want? After all you have experienced, you want to let your baby die?"

Though she hated his patronizing attack, his cutting words, and the predicament in which she had placed herself, Hannah roared and gave a final push.

Talos's hands moved quickly to a jeweled dagger with a gold hilt shaped like a lion that dangled from his hip. Hannah heard the wet smack of flesh against flesh, and a soft whimpering cry that cut through her hours of exhaustion. Talos wrapped Hannah's squirming baby in a soft yellow cotton blanket and handed it to her. "It's a boy!"

"Quite the big one, he is!" Hannah chortled. She brought the sobbing child close to her chest, so that its head rested over her heart. "Hi there, I'm your mum!

"You're so lovely," she cooed. "You're so perfect. You're everything I thought you would be." Talos beamed at Hannah, and she grinned back. For that moment, everything was as it should be in the world.

Then a flash of white light filled the room. When it vanished, a smoky gray portal swirled in the wall to Hannah's right. All the men in the room were motionless. Hannah held her baby close to her chest and seized Talos' dagger from his immobile right hand. _'This can't be coincidence. Whatever is coming through that portal is going to have go through me to get my baby.'_

A woman shrouded in a red and white wool cloak stepped through the portal. Despite the hood covering her face, Hannah could discern the woman's blindness and relaxed the hand holding the dagger. "Hannah, it is time we depart for Albion."

"I haven't packed anything yet. And I haven't spent enough time with him either," Hannah objected.

"We must go immediately. You will not be able to remain with the Warrior Monks any longer, and I have seen your death and his death if you allow them to exile you. If you raise him, your son will not become the Hero he is meant to be, a Hero who saves Albion from impending destruction. Is that what you want, his death or his failure?"

"No." Hannah kissed her baby's forehead, tucked the blanket around him, and gingerly sat upright. The toll of the last few hours was becoming obvious as she crossed the stone floor to the Seer, even with her advanced regenerative abilities. "Where is he going?"

"I have found a trustworthy couple in Rookridge who will welcome the addition of a child into their lives. He will be raised well there."

Hannah began to sob at the thought of her son walking, crawling, talking, running, falling, jumping, smiling, bleeding, and living without her there to see every momentous event. "Can I at least name him? I picked out a name already. It's a really good name."

"You may name him if you like, Hannah."

She kissed his tender pink forehead again. "I'll name you Lark, in honor of your father, Sparrow. It might not sound good with his new last name though? What will his last name become?"

"Your son will be Lark Saker, of Rookridge."

"Lark Saker, that doesn't sound half bad. Lord Lark Saker, Hero Lark Saker, Captain Lark Saker, those are really melodic names," Hannah beamed. "Alright, Lark, let's get you to your new family." Theresa placed a steadying hand on the small of the red-head's back and guided her into the portal.

* * *

**Author's Note: Hooray! My first finished fanfic! I initially posted this chapter last night, but I wanted to add the birth scene and let everyone know who Sparrow and Hannah's son becomes. If you've played the game, I think you'll understand why Saker is their son.**

**After is the first of the fics that prequel my Fable III era story "Darkness Before the Dawn." It's about the Hero of Brightwall's first year as king. He has to battle class discrimination, assassins, and warriors who are trying to take over Aurora, and still fight the Crawler at the end of the year!**

**Before the end of next month (August), I will have all three prequels posted.**

**After: A Fable Love Story (main characters: Hannah, Sparrow)**

**Birth of a Kingdom (main characters: Sparrow, Reaver, Walter Beck)**

**Childhood (main characters: Sparrow, Logan, and Hero of Brightwall)**

**Follow me as an author so you can be the first to read these stories! And read Darkness Before the Dawn! **


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